


Does It Ever Drive You Crazy?

by YinAndYangOnIce



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU i guess?, M/M, based off of Karakura's what if the boys met after their failed dates?, post-Night Changes, yeah AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 07:23:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3111104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YinAndYangOnIce/pseuds/YinAndYangOnIce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>like I said based off of Karakura's work about after the Night Changes video, Niall goes to a convenience store to nurse his wounds after a date gone horribly, horribly wrong where he runs into Zayn, who's had a similarly awful night and they find a way to cheer each other up</p>
            </blockquote>





	Does It Ever Drive You Crazy?

It wasn’t the first time that Niall had had to run to a 24-hour convenience store at a little after midnight out of pure necessity and he was certain that it wouldn’t be the last. Unfortunately (or fortunately, because he probably would never have to live through this again,) he wasn’t sure he had ever or would ever have to do so under worse circumstances than this particular night.

Promptly after he’d managed to literally _set himself on fire_ and then proceeded to spill sangria all over his date’s pretty white dress, things had gotten awkward, like, really awkward. Irreparably awkward. After Niall had managed to put himself out he’d noticed how stained her dress was and apologized profusely, and to her credit she was trying hard not to look as mad as she was, but she was clearly pretty mad and she left not long after that, but not before telling him in a roundabout, indirect way not to call her again.  
   
Which, given the circumstances was a bit rude. He hadn’t intended to set himself on fire or spill a drink on her, she didn’t have to act so put out about it.  

Speaking of, he was nursing a pretty nasty second-degree burn on his arm, which he’d wrapped gauze around (over the ruined sweater, because he couldn’t remember if he’d read somewhere something about keeping burned clothes on before treating the wound and didn’t want to chance it) after the girl had left. He wasn’t too broken up about it, really, just a little bummed and a lot humiliated and in need of some burn cream and alcohol.

He was the only one in the Minute Mart at the moment beside the bored-looking cashier who he wasn’t entirely sure was awake and he bopped his head glumly to the David Bowie song playing over the old speakers as he scoured the aisles for anti-inflammatory cream. When he found it, he started heading to the back where the refrigerators were and was floundering between buying one type of alcohol versus all of them when he heard the tiny bell over the door jingle. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to turn around but when he did, he was stunned and confused at what he found.

The man who’d just walked into the Minute Mart was gorgeous, beautiful in an otherworldly way, with a face so sculpted and sharp it looked carved from marble. He was in an all-black fitted suit and looked wildly out of place in this convenience store with flickering lights and that smelled vaguely of day-old hot dogs from the spinning rotisserie under a heat lamp. He’d look far more at home on a runway in Milan or Paris, yet here he was.  
   
As wonderful as he looked though, there was something off about him. His dark hair was pasted onto his forehead messily, like it had been wet and dried not quite naturally, as if it was sort of sticky or crusty. He had what appeared to be some red stuff (sauce maybe?) strewn in his hair and he looked utterly miserable.  
 Despite all of this, he was easily one of the most breathtaking people Niall had ever seen. 

Niall watched, dumbstruck, as the boy made his way into the shop (even the previously asleep attendant seemed to have woken up at this man’s arrival and was paying close attention to his journey,) amber eyes scanning the aisles and fingering along the shelves in search of something.

When he was finally able to tear his eyes away from the handsome stranger, Niall turned back around to choose a six-pack of beer from the fridge and take it up to the front. 

He paid for his items, adding a chocolate bar to the mix because after the night he’d had, he deserved it. He wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t want to go back to that empty cottage by himself just yet or if he didn’t want to leave the beautiful man all by himself, but either way, Niall didn’t leave yet, lingering by the door, not sure where to let his eyes fall.

When the man moved towards the register, he had shampoo and a box of Tide in his hands, as well as a candy bar (the same brand, in fact, as the one Niall had just bought.)

Whether it was because he was sure he didn’t have anything else to lose tonight, or if he could tell that this guy had had at least as bad a night as he’d had and he felt connected to him in that regard, something compelled Niall to open his mouth and talk to the other man.

“Rough night?” Niall asked and the guy at the register glanced up, at first not looking completely sure Niall had been talking to him. After a second, the blonde boy smiled a little, trying to let him know that he had. 

“Oh,” the other grunted, looking back down to pay for his stuff, not annoyed exactly, but not exactly looking pleased to engage either. “Yeah.”   
 There was an awkward moment between them where Niall wasn’t sure if he should just leave and the other man seemed to be avoiding his eyes, but after a moment the dark-haired boy looked back up, gaze finding the bandages on his arm.

“What happened to you?” he asked, in a deep, rolling timbre with an accent that teetered slightly onto something he didn’t quite know. 

Miraculously, Niall found himself smirking to himself. “Mate, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

The boy at the counter took his receipt and walked towards him, letting out a snort. “Listen, after the night I’ve had, I’ll believe anything,” he said, smiling ruefully to himself. After a minute of them standing in a slightly more comfortable silence, as if they were both reflecting on their horrible evenings with bemused vexation, the other boy spoke again. “I’m Zayn.”

He stuck his hand out and Niall grinned, taking it and wincing when the movement stretched his burned elbow. “Niall,” he replied, shaking his head at the boy’s, Zayn’s, concerned, raised eyebrows. “I’m fine. Just a little burn.”

As they walked out together, Zayn said, “Well, Niall, I hope the rest of your night goes well.”

“You, too, Zayn. Thanks,” Niall said, waving as they turned around, walking away and towards their respective cars when Niall suddenly stopped, turning around.

“Hey,” he called and Zayn turned around and his amber eyes were sparkling in the moonlight in such a way that Niall almost forgot what he was going to say. “Uh, I… Do you… Look, after the night I had… and I assume you had… Neither of us should be alone, right?”  
 Zayn didn’t say anything, just watched him curiously. 

“Why don’t you and I sit down and talk about our shitty nights over a few of these?” he lifted up the six-pack of beer, smiling hopefully and, after a few seconds, the other boy smiled back.

“A few beers?” he asked.

Niall smirked. “A few packs, mate.”

To his surprise, Zayn let out a loud, tinkling laugh, nose wrinkling up along with the corners of his eyes and he was lovely. After he caught his breath, he paused for a bit, thinking on it. After a minute, he shrugged, still smiling.

“Yeah, sure, bro,” he said. “Why not?”

~ ~ ~ 

“S-So, wait, hang on a second,” Niall giggled, feeling bubbly and warm in his chest, sitting sideways on the sofa in front of the fire that he was keeping a very safe several yards away from. He was sitting back to back with Zayn, who was more lying than sitting down, long legs hanging over the arm of the chair and snickering into his beer. “She left with him?”

They were pleasantly drunk by now, Niall having gone back into the 24/7 to buy another six-pack before telling Zayn to follow him to his aunt’s cottage in his (really nice) car. To be honest, he had been slightly surprised whenever he looked in his rearview mirror and found Zayn actually following him. They’d been talking and drinking for hours, now barely able to tell any parts of their stories without busting up laughing.

“Yep,” Zayn replied before taking a quick pull of the drink. “I don’t know, bro, when I asked her out she didn’t exactly say she was single, but she didn’t turn me down so I sort of just assumed, you know? She didn’t look that sorry, though, my guess is that it was some elaborate ploy to make the guy jealous or summat.”

Niall guffawed, shaking his head as he polished off another beer. They were getting pretty low, almost powering through one and a half six-packs and showing no signs of slowing down.  
   
“So, tell me how exactly you caught fire?” Zayn asked, nodding down to Niall’s bandaged arm. Once they’d gotten back, Zayn told him to take the sweater off (right words, wrong context) so that they could tend to the burn and now he was in a t-shirt with more gauze wrapped around his elbow. It hurt a lot less whenever he moved now but there was still a dull heat throbbing there that kept him from repressing the whole ordeal.

While Niall was licking his wounds, he’d allowed Zayn to take a shower in his bathroom with his new shampoo and throw his soiled suit in the washer, letting him borrow a pair of his joggers and a jumper (one that hadn’t been lit aflame) to lounge and booze in. 

“Mate, I haven’t the slightest idea,” Niall grumbled, chuckling. “It was that stupid Christmas sweater. Extra flammable material or whatever.”

“No, come on, man,” Zayn said, laughing. “Wasn’t stupid. S’cute.”

Niall flushed from more than just the alcohol. Niall wasn’t sure how but meeting Zayn had turned his whole night around. It had gone from the worst night of his life to maybe one of the best of his week. Zayn was cute and handsome, even with his hair not styled and hanging limply in front of his eyes and past his ears, and really funny and thoughtful (he’d brought this girl out to the nicest restaurant in town just to have her creep of an ex(?)-boyfriend pour spaghetti on him) and the buzz in his system was making him want to tell Zayn that.

“Mate, listen,” he said, reaching a hand back and patting at Zayn’s hair, hearing the other boy giggling when his fingers brushed clumsily over his nose. “Listen, bro.” He turned his head to the side, not speaking again until Zayn did the same and they could see each other out of their peripheral. “That girl is an idiot, okay? Like… any girl that would leave you for a lug-head douchebag with bad hair is not worth your time.”

They both tittered to themselves, Zayn speaking up through a hiccup, “How did you know he had bad hair?” they both laughed some more before he said, “But really, man. Thanks. That’s… After a night like tonight, that’s nice to hear.”  
   
Niall had let his arm drop to the side until it was hanging off the couch and brushing against the floor and he nearly jumped when he felt another hand brushing against his own after a few minutes.

“No problem,” he said around the lump that had suddenly lodged in his throat. He wasn’t any more sober than before, but everything was coming to him just a little bit clearer at the moment. “It’s true.”

Zayn hummed quietly, brushing his finger over Niall’s pinky, clearly showing him that he knew what he was doing. “Same with your girl, mate,” he said off-handedly. “Any bird that leaves bitching about her dress when you’ve just had your sweater on fire is not a girl you want to have around.”

“I think you’re a girl I’d like to have around,” Niall murmured, just barely drunk enough to have an excuse for saying that but Zayn didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he didn’t mind so much that he got bolder, fully lacing their fingers together and squeezing slightly. There were several minutes of comfortable quiet before Niall said, “Listen, mate, I have a whole ‘nother pitcher of sangria in the fridge. This beer is starting to taste like arse and I promise not to spill it on you.”

He stood up and was pleasantly surprised to find Zayn’s hand still in his when he did. Zayn smiled at him. “I promise not to leave even if you did,” there was a teasing lilt to his voice but his eyes were earnest and Niall’s heart sped up a million times as he reluctantly separated their hands and walked to the kitchen.

Man, just how fast the night changes.

~ ~ ~

When Niall woke up the next morning, he found his face pressed up against Zayn’s warm chest and the other boy’s warm arms wrapped low around his waist. Memories of the night before resurfaced in a haze of his slightly pounding headache and clouds, he remembered kisses that tasted like wine and fruit and hands pressing everywhere he could reach. 

He grinned, leaning up and pressing a kiss to the other boy’s chin, kiss after kiss until Zayn started to stir. As he blinked himself awake and smiled down at Niall, the night before obviously coming back to him as well, as he bent down to press a soft peck against Niall’s temple, Niall thought that maybe he should send thank-you notes to his date, Zayn’s date, and the guy who’d thrown spagbol over his head.


End file.
